


Wishes Come True

by silentdescant



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Champagne, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 19:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12260415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdescant/pseuds/silentdescant
Summary: Stargazing on Scott's beanbag.





	Wishes Come True

**Author's Note:**

> Because Sarah tweeted about this scenario.

It’s cool enough outside now that Mitch is actually tense, just on the verge of shivering. He keeps clenching his teeth, and every time he realizes it, he takes a moment to breathe and relax and enjoy the chilly night air. The sky is clear and the stars are as crisp as they can be within Los Angeles city limits, and the moon is bright and low in the sky, and it’s a beautiful night.

“Mitchell?” comes Scott’s voice from somewhere upstairs. “Mitch, are you home?”

“Out here, babe!” Mitch shouts back as he twists around to look at the upstairs balcony. Scott pokes his head over the railing and waves at him. “You coming down?”

“I brought champagne!” Scott replies triumphantly.

He disappears from the balcony and Mitch hears him stomping through the house like a herd of elephants, and he wonders how one man can make so much noise. The night was peaceful before Scott got home.

Scott emerges from Mitch’s bedroom a moment later, carrying one bottle of champagne and nothing else, and he bends down to give Mitch a quick kiss hello.

“You didn’t get glasses?” Mitch asks.

“Feelin’ lazy,” Scott replies. He hands Mitch the bottle and grabs his new beanbag and hauls it over next to Mitch’s chair. “Wanna open that?”

“I’m feeling lazy too,” Mitch says. “You can do the honors.”

Scott pops the cork and slurps the fizz that drips over the rim of the bottle before throwing himself down on the beanbag. It’s a giant thing, and Scott’s extremely proud of it, sprawling with the champagne held carelessly in one hand. Mitch leans down to steal it from him and take a sip. He scoots his chair a few inches closer, while he’s at it; if they’re going to be passing this bottle back and forth, they should at least be within easy reach.

“Have fun tonight?” Mitch asks.

“Yeah. Same ol’, same ‘ol.” Scott reaches for the champagne and accidentally whacks Mitch’s ankle with his wildly gesturing wrist. “Sorry. Gimme that. What’d you do tonight?”

“Not much, just some TV. Almost done with True Blood.”

“Would I like it, do you think?”

“Nah, it’s kinda overdramatic,” Mitch says. “Sexy, though. So, maybe.”

Mitch nudges the beanbag with his foot to let Scott know he wants the bottle back. Scott takes another swig first and says, “It’s so nice tonight.”

“Yeah, I was just thinking that when you came home,” Mitch replies. “Kinda cold, though. Might grab a blanket in a second. You want one?”

Scott shifts around to look up at him quizzically. Scott runs hot; he’s comfortable in shorts and tank tops when it’s cold enough for Mitch to wear fur coats and leather jackets, and sometimes he forgets that even LA’s mildly cool weather can be too much. He wiggles around on the beanbag and pats the space he makes at his side. “Come cuddle me, I’ll keep you warm.”

It doesn’t take much convincing. The little wedge of space Scott made available on the giant beanbag doesn’t look all that comfortable, but that’s okay. Mitch curls up mostly on top of Scott anyway, tangling their legs together and fitting himself under Scott’s arm to use him as a pillow. Scott really is warm, Mitch’s own personal heater, and the harsh edges of the night chill are melting away. Mitch can feel the tension seeping out of his muscles. He sighs and closes his eyes.

“Did you see that?” Scott murmurs excitedly.

“What?”

“There was a shooting star, did you see?”

Mitch turns his head to gaze at the sky. There’s nothing unusual, no movement besides the blinking light of a plane high overhead and a helicopter far in the distance. “I didn’t see anything,” he says quietly.

He feels Scott take another long drink of champagne and he reaches for the bottle, stealing it right from Scott’s lips. It takes a bit of maneuvering to take a sip without spilling all over Scott’s chest, but when he’s done he settles back down and passes the bottle back.

“You can have the rest,” he says. “It’s almost gone, I think. Where was your shooting star?”

Scott raises his hand and points somewhere directly above them. “Up there.”

“Did you make a wish?”

“Oh, shit, no. Hold on, lemme think of one.”

“Tell me!”

“I can’t!” Scott takes a moment to drain the rest of the champagne and smacks his lips with satisfaction as he sets the empty bottle on the ground. “Okay, I got one.”

“Tell me, tell me,” Mitch says again.

“I can’t. It’s about you, though,” Scott replies smugly.

Mitch huffs a soft laugh and pretends to be offended. “That’s not fair. You should tell me, that should be a rule.”

“What, because it involves you?”

“No, because I’m me.”

He can hear the indulgent grin as Scott asks, “Because you’re special?” It makes Mitch grin too.

“Because you love me.” Mitch twists and stretches up and kisses Scott’s soft smile. “And I love you.”

Before Mitch can back off, Scott wraps his arms tightly around Mitch’s torso and holds him there, with their faces level. “That was my wish,” he whispers. “That you’ll love me forever.”

Mitch rolls his eyes, but he can’t stop the warm flush spreading across his cheeks. “That’s a stupid wish,” he says. “It already came true years ago.”

“Yeah, but I’m doubling down,” Scott says. “I just want to make sure the universe is on my side.”

“It’s been like a decade,” Mitch laughs. “You couldn’t get rid of me even if you wanted to.”

Scott kisses him one more time, wet and warm but still chaste, before letting him snuggle down again under Scott’s arm. Mitch nuzzles his face into Scott’s chest and hugs him tightly. Scott rubs his face against the top of Mitch’s head and his beard ruffles Mitch’s hair in a strangely comforting way.

“I’ll never want to get rid of you,” he whispers. “We’re stuck with each other.”

 

 _fin_.


End file.
